Saturday, 5 May 2018

2 Poems by Stephen Watson

When she's sleeping

and out of touch,
the moments unfold
like seasons;
each more Wintry than
the last. I hurtle in
minutes from greens to
a tableau of blacks, of whites. 

These nights, the heartache
feels like heartbreak.


buddha Statue

Eroding.
Crumbling, in the face of Nature,
who he is - which is what we
all do.
We crumble in the face of
what/who we Truly are.

Failing to pieces...
He's All One and all
and yet and yet
he falls to pieces;
he falls from peace,
failing to pieces.


Bionote

Stephen Watson is an un-teacher who travels the world teaching the poetic process of wisdom-seeking that is Tai Chi. He can be found at his home studio, Someday Farm in Connecticut or, let's be honest, more often on www.Facebook.com/ShhDragon.  His work, which looks like movement, meditation, and massage, involves uncovering the Self so well-hid beneath our customs, structures, languages, and beliefs.  His true poetry remains stuck between his heart and spirit and he apologizes for what trickles or ruptures out and comes to be called his poetry.  He, like this lyric world, is a work/play in progress.

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